


Not So Alone

by yoomiv



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Sad Oikawa Tooru, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoomiv/pseuds/yoomiv
Summary: Once in a while, Oikawa would feel nothing at all, or everything at once—perhaps even both at the same time if that's possible. A crash of emotions overdriving his senses to the point he feels more like an empty vessel rather than a living being. But he always overcomes this because he's not alone.Because Iwaizumi is always with him.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Not So Alone

**Author's Note:**

> this was written on impulse on a very bad day and how else to comfort myself if not with iwaoi

A thud sounds as the phone hits the table. Oikawa peers out the scantily covered windows. It was dark out.  
  
The chair beneath him was uncomfortable and he wonders for the fifth time in the span of 2 hours why he didn't invest in one more comfortable and padded with cushions.   
  
He gets up with a heave and flops down on his bed. For now, he could count on the plush mattress to offer comfort.   
  
The ceiling was dull and muted as he stares up. A specific sensation resonated inside him but he couldn't place it. It stuck in the back of his throat, ready to be purged out but not quite.   
  
Perhaps the sensation was 'void.' But even then, he felt something far distinct than just 'void-ness,' and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't pinpoint it. It was in his spectrum—his field of range—but had miraculously managed to be narrowly out of reach.   
  
Could this feeling be a byproduct caused by the stillness of this room? Though, it was normally like this—actually, scratch that. This stillness was different—off. It made Oikawa feel uncomfortable—peculiar in a sense.   
  
It felt like trying to sleep with a blocked nose—or having a heavy weight in your chest but no matter how many deep breaths you take, it doesn’t lighten.   
  
Maybe I'm dehydrated, Oikawa thinks. He notices his mouth does feel dry. A cup of water would do good, he decides.   
  
He sits up and stares out again. It was a strange habit he'd developed being alone and bored so often. He'd spend quite the time getting lost in the pitch blackness of the night, staring wide and beyond the stars and moon, wondering if he'd have a purpose, being so small and insignificant as he is. It made his problems seem minuscule, a being so small amongst the many others in a wide and indefinite universe.   
  
He shakes out of his reverie and stands up.   
  
His footsteps were heavy as he walks slowly down the shaded hall. The only lights visible were from Iwaizumi's room. It wasn't much, just a slight flood of warm tone beneath the door.   
  
The dark didn't bother Oikawa. In fact, it brought him a sense of comfort and ease; as if no one was there to judge him—just himself, his thoughts, and the shadows. Though sometimes, his thoughts were more lethal than a hundred eyes. Sometimes, they'd suffocate him. Other times, it was the small voice lingering in the depths of his thoughts, murmuring with criticisms and disapproval. He usually shuts them out with volleyball but nowadays, music.   
  
The house was silent, albeit not surprising. Iwaizumi was frequently in his room these days. This silence had an odd sense to it though. It edged Oikawa. It wasn't exactly unpleasant but certainly wasn't pleasant either. Oikawa could compare it to … a balance, a balance tilted off its side. Perhaps that's exactly what'd happen to Oikawa; his life was tilted off-balance, just the slightest that he couldn’t see nor explain what had exactly shifted, but he could sense it. He could sense the slightly unpleasant sensation engraved onto his skin—mind—thoughts—and even his emotions.   
  
His emotions. He felt an inexplicable sense of loneliness. Though, don’t get him wrong—he preferred being alone more than always but sometimes he was too lonely. Sure, he was always surrounded by people but he never really felt 'there' or per se, connected to them. Besides, it'd been a while since he last saw them. Ever since quarantine started, he'd been cooped up in this house, mostly alone except the moments he chose to bother Iwaizumi. But even that lately, he hasn't been doing much of.   
  
A lot had changed and he felt no particular thoughts about any of them. And if they were good or bad, Oikawa wasn't sure, like most things these days.   
  
He reaches the kitchen, maneuvering in the dark easily. After all, he'd befriended the shadows.  
  
He grabs a cup of water, downs it before wiping his mouth of any liquid. Sighing out involuntarily, he discards the cup and stares out.   
  
It was a hazy night. The moon hid behind a blanket of grey, bleary clouds, peaking out just the slightest, offering light to the ones who frequent the night alone.   
  
Oikawa sighs. Considering how often this phenomenon occurs, Oikawa would think by now, he should've found whatever triggered this to happen but he hasn’t. The single certain fact he knows is every time it brings upon an itch of loneliness—barely tangible but constantly there.   
  
And every so often he'd cry out in frustration—or just weep, letting the unspeakable emotions spill out his eyes, letting them express themselves because no words ever came close to portray how it felt. Most of the time, he'd stare off in the distance, dazed and in a trance. A single thought or question would encircle his mind, or none at all, and sometimes way too many, it overbears him.  
  
Though every time it'd ended with him and Iwaizumi. Tonight was no exception, Oikawa thought as he steps towards the light.   
  
Every time, Iwaizumi stood beside him with comforting words or touches. Every time, he'd try to help figure the strange feeling that left Oikawa lost and in a void. Every time, they'd fail but Iwaizumi always succeeded in making him feel better. Oikawa didn't feel so lost and alone when Iwaizumi was there.  
  
Perhaps he was just lonely—or tired, he did wake up earlier than usual. Maybe it was the taught muscles he has yet to stretch? Or perhaps the constant edging pain—tangible but not quite profound—in his knee. He doesn't know and he's not sure if he ever will.   
  
He slowly opens the door. Light floods the hallway and blinds Oikawa momentarily.   
  
"Hajime." His voice comes out rough—scratchy at first. It was the first time he'd spoken all day, he realized. He looks instinctively at the window—curtained, it offered no insight out.   
  
"Is it one of those days?" Iwaizumi asks. He sat on the bed, papers scattered around him. He gathers to pile them together neatly.   
  
"How did you know?" Oikawa asks, staring at the clad window. He stood promptly at the doorway.   
  
"You only call me Hajime when you're in this state," he simply answers.   
  
Oikawa casts his gaze to Iwaizumi. "Should I start calling you Hajime regularly then?"  
  
"Sure, I wouldn't mind—he places the stack of papers on the nightstand—but I would still be able to tell." His tone was assured.   
  
"I guess you would," Oikawa agrees, "You do notice all the little things."   
  
"Of course, when it comes to you, after all."   
  
Oikawa takes a deep breath and steps in. "Mind accompanying me tonight?"   
  
"Of course." Iwaizumi pats his lap.   
  
Oikawa treads into the room, up the bed, and onto Iwaizumi's lap. He lays there comfortably and stares up at the ceiling—it was another one of his habits—Iwaizumi in his peripherals.   
  
"Maybe this is a side effect of tiredness."  
  
"Wouldn't you be like this every day then?" He threads his fingers in Oikawa's hair, pulling softly at the knots until they relent.   
  
Oikawa closes his eyes. "I'm not tired every day," he mumbles.   
  
"You are, at least you complain about being tired all the time."   
  
"That's talking about being mentally exhausted not physically."   
  
Iwaizumi squeezes his cheeks softly. "Maybe it's a factor of both combined?"   
  
"Maybe," Oikawa mutters through puffed cheeks, "but I don't feel mentally exhausted right now … I think?"   
  
"How would you know?"   
  
"Well, I feel tired—"   
  
"That's a given." Oikawa swats at him.   
  
"But it's not like sleepiness-tired," he continues, "It's more like burned-out-tired. And I yawn a lot and sigh every 5 seconds."   
  
"You do sigh a lot on these days," Iwaizumi points out.   
  
Oikawa nods slightly. "I usually have no motivation to do anything—like I said, burned out."   
  
"Does going to sleep help?"   
  
"I think? I usually don’t pay it any mind the day after."   
  
"Why's that?" Iwaizumi pokes at his cheek lightly.  
  
Oikawa grabs Iwaizumi's finger. "Well because … I don't feel it anymore—"   
  
Iwaizumi hums. "So, sleeping does help," he concludes, "Should we go to sleep then?"   
  
"No!" Hearing your voice helps too." He fiddles with the finger as to how a baby would if presented with one.   
  
"Is that so?"   
  
"Mhm."   
  
"But, your eyes are already closed."   
  
"Doesn't mean I want to sleep. You playing with my hair is soothing too."   
  
"That's nice." He continues his venture in Oikawa's hair. It had a particular shine to it but was more soft than silky.   
  
Oikawa falls silent, breathing softly. Iwaizumi wonders if he'd fallen asleep just after claiming he didn't want to. He chuckles.   
  
  
"Maybe I'm just lonely." Oikawa breaks the pleasant silence which informs—he is indeed awake.   
  
"Maybe," Iwaizumi agrees, "But I'm always here, you're never alone." He ruffles Oikawa's hair, falling back into silence.   
  
  
"Do you want me to read you a story?" Iwaizumi asks quietly.  
  
Oikawa opens one eye. "Hajime," he starts, tone light, "Are we still little kids who need their bedtime stories?"   
  
"You didn't say that the last time we did this," Iwaizumi huffs out, "Do you want me to or not?"   
  
"Of course." Oikawa smiles.   
  
Iwaizumi removes his hand from his hair. "I need to get the book.” He looks pointedly at Oikawa in his lap.   
  
"Can't you use some superpower or superficial force to get it, like telekinesis?" He gets flicked at his forehead.   
  
"I don’t have any of those sorts, though I wish," Iwaizumi sighs, "Dealing with you would be so much easier."   
  
"Hey!"   
  
"Now move over or I won't read to you."   
  
"Alright, alright," Oikawa complies. He flops beside Iwaizumi and presses into the sheets. "I'll just be here, lonely and abandoned while you take your sweet time choosing a book."   
  
"Don't be so dramatic," he backhands him lightly, "Besides your choosing the book." He shuffles up towards the bookshelf.   
  
"Anything sounds interesting when you read it," Oikawa muffles out.   
  
"Should I read a Terms & Services then?" Iwaizumi reaches for a book, flips through, and puts it back. That can be for another day.   
  
"Sure, I wouldn't mind." Iwaizumi hums in response. He searches for a floral-colored spinal and pulls it out. This'll do, he thinks and turns to Oikawa.   
  
He turns away, shuffling around a bit, and then it goes quiet.   
  
  
"Hajime?" Oikawa lifts his head. Iwaizumi stood just before the dresser, phone in hand and its light illuminating against his features. He has a book wedged between his forearms and torso.   
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Trying to find a Terms & Services." His brows were itched together and a slight frown had made itself known.   
  
The room erupts in laughter. The pleasant timbre lights the room. Iwaizumi feels the corners of his frown lift.   
  
"You were being serious?" Oikawa chokes out between laughter.   
  
"I wasn't … but then I decided I wanted to see if I could actually make it sound interesting to you—" He lets out a soft grunt at the contact of a pillow against his face. It tumbles to the floor like a weighted feather before Iwaizumi picks it up with grit.   
  
He advances towards Oikawa, who had sat up with a pleased smile painted on. Iwaizumi stares menacingly with steady steps. With each one, Oikawa appears more leery.   
  
Iwaizumi drops the phone and book on the bed and crawls towards Oikawa, smiling—he doesn't smile back, instead, wearing a wary expression—then smashes the pillow into his face. Oikawa cries out and falls onto his back. Iwaizumi continues hitting him playfully, letting out soft exhales of laughter getting meshed with Oikawa's.   
  
"Hajime stop, stop— I'm sorry—!" he manages out amid laughter and soft cotton. His pleas get muffled and ignored. 

"Oomf— Hajim— Iwa—"  
  
At last, Iwaizumi decides to relent. Oikawa exhales deeply, wiping his tears. His cheeks and stomach ache from laughing. "Hajime your so mean—"   
  
At that comment, Iwaizumi starts tickling him. "Wait— No, no, no—!" he pleads, laughing uncontrollably.   
  
Oikawa tries to squirm away, instead bangs his head on the headboard. Iwaizumi immediately ceases his actions and reaches out, gently placing his hands on the area.  
  
"Ouch." Oikawa rubs at his wound, wincing at the throbbing sensation.   
  
"Are you okay?" Iwaizumi asks, his brows furrowed.   
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Oikawa reassures, "Just a bit of pain, nothing serious."   
  
Iwaizumi frowns. "Alright, if you say so." 

"Don't frown, you'll get wrinkles!"   
  
"It doesn't matter much," Iwaizumi shrugs off. He reaches for his phone and places it on the nightstand.   
  
"Yes, it does—you'll ruin your pretty face!" Oikawa furrows his eyebrows. Iwaizumi flicks between them.   
  
"Then you shouldn't knit your brows, you'll ruin your own pretty face and I'll be the one dealing with your complaining."   
  
"Mean Hajime!" Iwaizumi smiles.   
  
"You know your genuine smile and laughter is pretty."   
  
Oikawa raises a brow. "What are you saying, I always do those and very genuinely might I add."   
  
"I didn't mention how often—besides those are lies."   
  
"How can you even tell?" Oikawa gives Iwaizumi a skeptical look.   
  
"I just can." He motions for Oikawa to lay back on his lap.   
  
Oikawa instead stares at Iwaizumi expectantly, not moving.   
  
"Well, you don’t hold back—or like it's from your belly rather than your throat."   
  
Oikawa shifts around, letting Iwaizumi settle against the headboard, then situates himself on his lap. "It's kind of hard not to laugh when you're tickling me senseless." He pouts.   
  
Iwaizumi pats his cheeks softly then pinches. "I should tickle you more often then."   
  
"Maybe—" Oikawa feels fingers dance lightly against his waist. He jolts up, "No—I want to hear a story right now!"   
  
"Alright, alright, lay back down, princess and could you pass me the book?" Iwaizumi requests, pointing to the other end of the bed.   
  
Oikawa reaches for said book and lies down. "I've always loved this one," he reminisces, inspecting the worn cover.   
  
"Of course," Iwaizumi agrees, "You've always liked fairytales."   
  
"It's because they have happy endings."   
  
"Aren't happy endings boring though? Sometimes you just need a sad one." He flips through the first few pages of flyleaf and smiles at the drawings he and Oikawa had made as kids.   
  
"You can have your sad ending all you want, I'll stick with my happy ones." Oikawa clasps his hands together.   
  
"Alright, but you don’t even like other genres half as much."  
  
"I like sci-fi."   
  
"You don't like thriller and—"   
  
"It's scary!" Oikawa exclaims.   
  
"But extra-celestial beings aren't," Iwaizumi says, unconvinced.   
  
"It's extraterrestrial—"   
  
"Same thing."   
  
"—and they're fascinating!" Oikawa argues.   
  
"Sure." Iwaizumi ruffles Oikawa's hair.   
  
"They are!" He throws his hands up, just barely missing Iwaizumi's chin. Iwaizumi grasps his wrists, dropping the book beside them.   
  
"Yeah, you certainly are." He presents a soft smile at Oikawa.   
  
Oikawa lifts a brow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"   
  
"Nothing." He drops Oikawa's wrists, "Now close your eyes, princess. It's time for a bedtime story."   
  
"Okay." Oikawa brings his hands back up, settling them on Iwaizumi's cheeks, grabbing his attention though it's not necessarily needed. "Will you cuddle with me after?" He peers up.   
  
"I always do."   
  
"Are you going to, this time?"   
  
"Of course," Iwaizumi reassures, he picks up the opened book, "Close your eyes, princess."   
  
Oikawa complies with a gentle smile. Iwaizumi mirrors him.   
  
"Alright, this is a story about 2 princes from different kingdoms who could only visit each other for one day, but of course—it's more than enough . . ."   
  
  
Iwaizumi places the book on the stand quietly. He rearranges himself so he lays beside Oikawa. He gazes at him, admiring the open and peaceful face he wore. He doesn't often get to see it anymore and the only times were on these days.

Iwaizumi caresses Oikawa's cheeks. They were soft under the pads of his fingertips like how he'd always remembered them to be.   
  
Pressing a tender kiss to his temple, Iwaizumi reaches over to turn off the lamp. He wraps his arms comfortably around Oikawa, entangling them before pressing another kiss into his neck.   
  
"Goodnight, Tooru."

"…jime, are you my prince?"


End file.
